Lost in Ash (The Phoenix Experiment - Book 1)

Prologue

Drip...

Drip...

Drip...

She counted every third drip. Her eyes closed tight listening closely to the simple sound the small amount of water made. If she had been thirsty, it would have been agonizing.

Drip...

Drip...

Drip...

Her eyes clenched tighter as if the drips dared her to open her eyes. Opening her eyes meant facing reality and the young girl didn't want to leave the warmth of her mind. In her mind, in her sleep, she could run far away from here. Back in time before when she had a home and where people had smiled. Her favorite thing was the smiles that occasionally would dance across her memories, faceless – all of them, but beaming at her with an emotion she wished she knew the name of.

Drip...

Drip...

Click-Drip...

The beat in her chest quickened and she tried her best to calm her breathing. Her body began to go on alert, she could feel Them coming... They always came together.

The Doctors always traveled in packs. It was dangerous otherwise. She wasn't sure why, only that They would whisper about the danger of being alone. If she could laugh, she would have. Alone was nice.

Alone was safe.

Drip...

Click-clack...

Drip...

Click-Drip...

Slowly, she pulled herself up to sit. The cold metal bunk creaked as her weight transferred. Her body shivered, screeching for the warmth it had been able to find. Still, her eyes remained closed. She wanted to exist somewhere else for just a minute more.

For a moment more she wanted to be in a field, out in the sun. She couldn't even remember how the rays could burn skin, it sounded like a distant fairytale. Something a mom would tell a child to bring a bit of magic to life. She could almost feel the sweat dripping down the back of her neck. Maybe some perfect green blades of grass would be stuck in her tight curls by the end of the day, and she would have smiled picking them out the rest of the night.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Slim fingers began to dance on the metal bunk below her. Each time the finger hit the metal it felt like a prick to her skin. Every prick brought her an extra second. The whispers grew closer, the footsteps louder.

It was her turn.

Again.

She wouldn't scream. It was always annoying when someone screamed. She hated the yelling and the fighting. The snarky remarks soldiers would make the minute someone hit the ground. If she had to go, she would walk herself. She would not meet the Death Angel with tears in her eyes or fear in her heart. She would stare at the angel with hatred and defiance. Never would the angel get her voice.

"Open Bay Four," a deep voice called too close for comfort. She breathed in one deep breath, as she envisioned the most perfect sunset. Colored in pinks and purples running off the blue sky, clouds would float in making rays of gold splinter across as far as the eye could see.